Of Food and Drink
by FluffleNeCharka
Summary: The relationship of Tak and Keef is complicated, built upon both food and gestures rather than outright love. TakKeef drabbles done for the 10 themes LJ community. Completed.
1. Champagne

Author's Note: Written for the 10 themes LJ comm., because this pairing makes a great deal of sense. Tak is manipulative and Keef begs to be manipulated. Also, they look very nice together. Quite a contrast. Please review and tell me what you think, as I'm not sure if I've kept them both in character. I came up with this pairing a while ago, but honestly I only had a brief glimpse into Keef's head. It's quite possible I'm not doing this all that well.

However, I chose the food set of themes on a whim. I understand, logically and canonically, Tak would not be able to have most (if any) of these foods/drinks. Please do not flame me, as I know I have bent canon here. I just ask you ignore this for the sake of the drabbles. Thank you.

I own nothing and make no profit off of this. (Though I wish the latter weren't true.)

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Tak drank champagne.

Keef had never known anyone could frink without getting drunk. His mother got smashed, his father would drink her under the table, and they'd both end up sprawled across the floor without fail each Friday night. He never realized that not all alcohol was strong enough to knock people over. He never though that someone would have the self control to drink in moderation. Skool had reinforced that ideal.

Yet Tak, despite her age, sat there and sipped alcohol lightly.

Champagne. Somehow it was so suiting fo her. Her room decked out in velvet and otherworldly art went perfect with the image of an elegant teen sipping champagne. And she _was_ only sipping as the night went by and they watched a symphony on pay per view. It made total sense that Tak, who never yelped or screamed or raised her voice, could be so mellow with a glass in her hand. She was not a drunk. She was, in Keef's eyes, a lady. Ladies had champagne. It was expensive and unusual. Just like Tak.

What he had a hard time understanding was that line between alcoholic and occasional drinker. His mother and father had vodka and whiskey. Tak had champagne and the occasional white wine. To anyone else, the difference would've been clear, but Keef was scared. He was scared Tak would get drunk one night and insult him like his mother did. Maybe she'd have too much and hit him like his father did. He didn't know how she was when she got smashed.

Because, to his surprise, she never had more than two glasses in a sitting. After that, she very deliberately cut herself off for the rest of the night. On one occasion, she let him finish off her second glass, and he was more surprised she didn't seem to want it than he was at the taste. Feeling trusted and pleasantly surprised, he laid his head on her shoulder.

Maybe it was okay Tak drank champagne.


	2. Strawberries

Author's Note: I really like the idea of Tak reacting to strawberries like Gaz reacts to pizza. I liked it enough to do this drabble in twenty minutes flat.

I own nothing, make no profit and have no strawberries.

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Strawberries were the only part of the ice cream she would eat.

Ice cream, Tak argued, was repulsive. The cold caused brain freezes, the calorie count was insane, and what's more Keef did NOT need sugar of any kind! This food, she warned, was a trapdoor to bad health and against his will, over the two months they'd been together she had reduced his ice cream intake by half. He tried to tell her it made him happy, but all he got was a stern glare.

"Things you like can still do you damage, you know," she snapped, but he ignored her and ordered one anyway. "Idiot."

For weeks, she would grow increasingly annoyed with his trips out for ice cream, until she finally started stocking it in her freezer just for him. It was a mockery, a junk food placed in the midst of vegan pizzas and powdered mixes. She did it anyway, and he loved her for it, but there was a catch that made him pause.

"There has to be real fruit in it," she told him, "If you're going to kill yourself with sugar, you'd better be getting something else out of it. I won't have you stunting your growth without at least getting some vitamins to balance it out."

Thus fruit chunk ice cream took over his usual fare. And though Tak loathed oranges, limes, and grapes, strawberries struck a chord with her. She adored them. The first time she had a piece in her ice cream, her eyes grew wide and after a few chews, she spit out the tiny chunk of fruit and checked the label. A bag of strawberries soon found its way into her freezer alongside the blasphemous ice cream. It seemed to Keef that, after that, she understood the way he loved ice cream. It was identical for her with strawberries.

The taste was wonderful, she told him, and it went beautifully with so many things. It amazed her to think people would dare to call the artificial 'strawberry' flavor anything of the sort. Real strawberries were rich and full, the taste and texture unlike anything else. Artificial flavors could not compare. It came to pass that on their Friday dates at Tak's house, a bowl of ice cream was in his lap while a platter of strawberries was in hers.

Going out for ice cream, though, was still not the same as eating it out of the container. Thinking on the artificial vs real taste of her own vice, Tak agreed and one warm summer Tuesday evening, they went out to an ice cream place just off of a park.

"Can you top our banana split with strawberries?" Keef asked, innocent eyes so endearing the woman ignored the 'no special orders' sign. His face lit up at the sight of their ice cream, and Tak showed her gratitude by tipping the ice cream woman. "Oh, this is so wonderful, isn't it?"

And watching Tak pick out the strawberries to eat them with a faint, loving smile towards her boyfriend, the woman had to agree.


	3. Chocolate

AN: This ending made me grin, and I hope it does so to you, too.

I own nothing, yadda yadda, sueing me would make you look like a monster, blah blah blah, doom.

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It had to be fine chocolate.

Not that cheap, milky stuff. Stores were filled with it this time of year. Christmas apparently meant cheap, thoughtless gifts nowadays, instead of deeply thought out ones like this. Waves of horrible, crudely wrapped kisses stood before him, an utterly pathetic offering to anyone he genuinely cared for. The seasonal wrappings of candy, the brightly colored cartoons on the boxes, and the way people scurried to pick them up left him cringing. This was not what Christmas was. Stupidity? Desperation? Didn't these people really love anyone?

Keef, annoyed, left major market places. Their concept of 'fine chocolate' would never suit Tak. Tak never bought things for that 'it's expensive and thus awesome' factor, but she bought things for their high quality. Milk chocolate was for poor people like him. It was unrefined and cheap, something one kid might give another. That was fine for them, but Keef wasn't one kid giving another some cruddy gift. He was a best friend giving his angel something. It had to be special, he thought as he left behind the super market and gas station districts of the city. It had to be something unusual, since she was unusual herself. Major corporations catering to mainstream slouches wouldn't cut it for him tonight.

Small shops afforded a much better quality, yet still none of it caught his fancy. Oh, these were much nicer. They were made better, from better ingredients and with a bit more care. Certainly, he could see these for a lesser special occasion. There were no goofy cartoons, no irritating catch phrases, and no hastily done wrapping job. These were chocolates that said 'yes, I actually DO care' when the others said 'I'm just obligated to do this'. Even the shop keepers seemed nicer. These chocolates did not induce an annoyed stirring in his mind or make his eye twitch in a dangerous way.

They still weren't all that special, though. They weren't fancy, just above average. There was no real stand out quality to them. They might be satisfying, but they weren't pleasing or amazing. None of this would drop a jaw, cause a gasp or even induce a solid double take. He didn't hate these. They weren't bad. He just wanted better for his Tak.

And just when he began to lose all hope, low and behold! In the high class, hoity toity end of the city, there was a chocolate shop. A fine, gourmet chocolate shop, the kind where everything was imported. In steep contrast to the other shops, each item there was jaw dropping, heart stopping, and breath taking. These were finely wrapped, silk ribbon on the box chocolates that were prearranged into shapes. Hearts, stars, angels. Creativity and hard work had been poured into these, into their making, packaging, and selling. The wholeness of it wreaked of high class and elegance, just like his best friend. Nothing here was badly done or lacking in perfection. He stood in the window, spellbound until he saw the price tags.

Oh, that... that could be a problem.

"Let's not talk about money," Keef told Tak as he discreetly shut off the TV, the news reporter almost finishing the phrase 'sudden, violent robbery', "It's Christmas, and it's fine chocolate!"

"Mmmm," Tak's eyes closed, as if in rapture. "It certainly is."


	4. Bananas

AN: You know, I really like the psycho aspect of Keef. It made this whole idea really come alive, even if I am waltzing on that line between OOC and IC... I really hate how short this chapter is, though. I'm gonna try and make the next chapter longer to make up for it, but I didn't want to drag out the joke too much. Better to leave it short and okay than to make it long and unfunny.

Own nothing, have nothing, want nothing except a tequito.

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"Bananas." Tak demanded, blinking sleepily at him. "I eat banana waffles only. Until you have them, get your Earth meats out of my house!"

The door slammed shut, leaving Keef behind to stare at the waffles with a vacant expression. MiMi took one and quietly chewed on it while the redhead thought over Tak's words. Maybe Tak was tired and that's why she was cranky. She wasn't _mad_ mad at him. Oh, wait! Maybe Tak didn't know how to make breakfast. No wonder she wanted banana waffles. Special foods always made the day brighter! Why, this could make the whole week awesome!

Keef was a dedicated best friend borderline boyfriend. He would never just get her a couple banana waffles. That wouldn't be nice, after poor tired Tak's long day. Nope, he was gonna make today special! Tak was his best friend. She let him hang out at her house, she let him eat out her fridge, and she never asked questions when his mom locked him out of the house and he had to come sleep at Tak's. Why, Tak didn't just deserve any old waffles! She deserved pristine whole wheat waffles with real rich butter and maple syrup... or something. Kee'f knowledge of fancy food was pretty limited, ultimately. But his heart was in the right place.

"MiMi, can you help me out for a bit?" he asked, and received a solemn nod. "Yay! Let's go make the world a brighter place for Tak!"

And off he was, to fight for justice and power! For today would be the best day of Tak's life, the most glorious breakfast she had ever tasted. It would be an unending breakfast, the kind of thing that she would remember for years to come! Each and every ingredient must be refined, laid like jewels upon a solid gold plate. Keef marched onward into the sweltering city, because by his honor, this meal would go down in history. Children would sing of its glory, animals would look on in envy, and no one would deny Keef's dedication to his best friend, his girlfriend, his queen of doom!

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"Keef?" Tak blinked, sure her ocular implants were deceiving her. "How did you do this?"

The kitchen was flooded with banana waffles. Banana foods in general, actually, lay everywhere. Banana puddings, banana chips, banana salads, banana kalamari, banana soup, and banana chicken all greeted her before she even walked halfway through the kitchen. The smell slammed into her, cooking and spices and blood. Stunned at the array of foods, for once in her life she was left speechless. More food was here than she could eat in a year.

"But how did you get five thousand bananas? Wouldn't the cost-?" Tak stopped speaking.

Keef blinked at her through a coating of blood, his smile strangely clueless. "Oh, don't worry about that. Nothing but the best for you."

"Well," the Irken coughed, uncomftorably, "Banana celery soup. That's not something I've ever seen before.

"Do you like it?" he asked eagerly as she took a spoonful, nearly gagging when she saw the faint traces of red in it.

"It's brilliant," she replied, fighting the urge to twitch. "Bloody, banana brilliant."


	5. Ice Cubes

Ice cubes were Tak's shining achievement.

Zim was so smug when he found out she was still alive. Smug in his little 'you failed, I win' way, with an endless supply of one upmanship. Every thing she had, he had a more powerful version of. Each weapon she had, he had a way to deflect. Every little thing she tried, he'd done and succeeded wildly before her. His giant ego inflated to the point where just walking past him on the street was a battle with sanity itself.

So she'd outdone him, developed an immunity to Earth foods that put him to shame. He could not replicate this, this strength built up over weeks with alcohol and chocolate. Every moment he tried to best her, she'd smugly pull out a granola bar and take a large, silent bite. That irritating brat had no chance of catching up to her, even if he did start eating Earth foods. Though with him he learned to eat some soft foods, mashed potatoes and the like, Tak far surpassed him. Her ability to eat rock candy and peppers left him grinding his teeth in frustration. Beyond all doubt, she was winning this little battle of pride.

The final crushing blow came with ice cubes.

Direct water still hurt. Yet with time, she was positive an immunity could be built up. So began the ice cube experiments. Pure ice was too strong. Foggy ice was better. Putting a bit of salt into it helped fantastically. Zim couldn't tell the difference between Earth ice cubes and salty ones, however. After a few hours of working on the recipe with her helper-slave, Keef, Tak managed to find the perfect concotion. Zim's eyes widened and he swore under his breath, unable to believe what he'd seen. By Irk, he was losing!

"No one beats ZIM! NO ONE!" and he was off to lick his wounds, so to speak.

Confident in her victory, Tak was stunned when a well dressed black man with a camera crew en tow asked her to chew ice cubes on TV. Before she could even question the absurdity of it, the spotlight was on her.

"We're here to see if this girl, supposedly the daughter of the founder of the Deelishus Weenie company, is really a horrible monster from beyond the stars! Let's watch, and see if our test foils her disguise." The well spoken man turned to her with a solemn expression, and unable to do anything else, Tak chugged it.

The ice slammed into her cranium with that 'brain freeze' humans talked so much about. Her throat felt like it was on fire, ready to explode as her taste buds screamed for her to stop. It was toxic, horrific. If she hadn't had the ankle support of her boots, she'd have fallen to the ground. Managing to look calm, somehow, she chewed on the retched pieces of ice, letting once perfect cubes turn to mush in her mouth. Her head throbbed with each heart beat, and she clenched her fist to keep from screaming in pain. It was fire, all of it, and she was sweltering even as a barely noticeable shiver ran down her spine.

"Done," she said, handing him back an empty glass, "Now don't bother me again or my father will sue you for every money you have!"

She stormed off, feeling Dib and Zim's eyes upon her. Yet though her insides churned, she did not slow, show pain, or even stop glowering until she was out of the cafeteria, the school, and the school grounds. Hah, stupid Zim. He thought he could show her up by bringing in that Earth boy. He thought he could catch her, with help from someone smarter than himself. Well, Dib's plan hadn't worked even for a second. She was an epitome of calm and grace as she strolled through the park, not willing to go back and face another possible glass. Those human reporters probably thought the big headed boy was insane now, though. She'd won the war with this one. Victory, victory for Tak!

Then she doubled over, and threw up for a good four minutes. Her body felt like it was on fire, and her head pounded so bad she didn't know which way was up. Once her body had punished her enough for the water, it was all she could do to crawl over to a park bench, pull herself up and rest for a while. Ice cubes packed a hell of a punch when they weren't hers. Closing her eyes, breathing hard, she let herself rest for a moment. Some human adults, two in their elderly years, muttered something about her being 'pretty, for a junkie' and then the park fell quiet. Shrugging off her coat and pulling up her sleeves, the purple haired girl stared at the sky. Earth was most beautiful when hardly anyone was around.

For a while, she simply let the sounds of this hideous planet wash over her. The birds chirping, a human smeet whining about an injury, and a stream flowing. Calm, peace and serenity. Until...

"Hey, best friend!" Keef chirped, and Tak felt something cold and heavy rest upon her head. "I knew you were sick, so I brought you some ice."

"Ice?" Tak echoed, one hand reaching up to gingerly touch the bundle on her head.

"Yeah, my mom always gets a washcloth with ice cubes in it for her head when she's sick, so I got you some," Keef beamed, clearly pleased with himself as Tak reached up to dislodge a single cube, clutching it in her hand.

"Ice cubes," she mused, and reached up to kiss Keef on the cheek. "I think you may be far less of a moron than I originally thought. Now, if you could just help me get home..."

And Keef was happy all the way there, because ice cubes were his shining achievement.


	6. Lemon

AN: Self destructive behavior equals the weirdest chapter I've ever written. I found it funny in a way, although Tak's swearing was icing on the cake. (I love how much of a bitch she is. A caring one, but still.)

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"Chug, chug, chug!"

His crowd is cheering. They're all cheering for him, for his talents. Keef lives for this attention, the way they scream and squeal and cringe. He is noticed. He is apart from the crowd. None of them can pretend not to know his name now, as he chugs the most vile substance known to mankind. They stare in awe. Keef's pride grows. This is the happiest moment of his life as he knows it, and yes, he _does_ know there's something wrong with that. He knows there's something not right about being this happy to be seen and this willing to get attention. But it's all shut out in this moment; the kids are his captive, sickened audience.

And then recess is over. He wobbles to class, in a daze of acidic aftertaste and impressed claps on the back from his peers. In this moment, he is happy. He is almost high on the sensation of being liked, and though not an ounce of classwork gets done, his good mood lasts all the way home. He is king now. Supa Keef, the chugganator. The world is bright and beautiful and each little detail comes to life because Keef is liked.

That night, as he sits motionless in his bed listening to the sounds of plates breaking and blows landing, the feeling vanishes. He tries to hold on, but it's like keeping water in his hands. After it has slipped away, Keef is not able to smile and be as happy as he was before. So he waits for tomorrow, when the feeling would return.

Over the years, it took more and more to entertain them. Coconut milk, grape juice, and glue. That's how it started. Then it became more and more of them. Then, all of them at once. Finally a year passed and he stepped his game up to things mixed with soy sauce, things mixed with mustard, and things mixed with hot sauce. He was the sickening freak show they could not ignore; their mouths disowned him but they came in swarms. Another year, and it was straight soy sauce, pickle juice, and ketchup. They squealed, pointed, prodded. Eventually he began to charge some money for it, and other kids began bringing the things he chugged. They brought hot sauce, hot peppers, pure cherry artificial flavoring.

He is the undisputed king of chugging. No one else can chug as much as he can or as disgusting of combinations as he can. From that first day eating fifthteen bags of pork rinds to his current reality of soy sauce mixed with grape juice served steaming hot, he knows he is loved. He is special. They all know his name now. Those druggies can't compete with the sheer audacity of Keef. Alcohol is nothing compared to three gallons of salt water. He is _king_.

And his girlfriend is _pissed_.

There was a look Tak got in her eyes, a flashing light that indicated she was royally, truly, deeply pissed. When she got that look in her eyes, she was ready to kill him outright. Only when he did something that caused massive damage did she give him that look. It wasn't even a look, actually, just a sudden reaction that told him she was out of control, knock him out without a cause angry. She watched him with an expression that stood out against the crowd, and for the first time in his life, caused him to freeze altogether.

She is not going to pity him. She merely watches him with utter distaste, as she would low quality horror movies or bad theater. Her eyes tell him she is not impressed. Arms folded, her expression reminds him so much of his mother's it is startling. How often has he seen that look, that coldness? Her expression says 'I don't love you right now', and somehow the twenty some faces screaming 'we love you' don't matter. They can't matter, will never matter. For the first time in his life, he feels the liquid pouring down his throat and tastes it instead of love. As if waking up from a dream, he finishes as the crowd of kids cheer. Tak's stylish hair blocks her eyes for a moment as her face dips down into the first real frown he's ever earned from her in their entire relationship. She does not pity him, and spins on her heel to leave him to his loving fans.

She does not talk to him for the rest of the day, does not return his calls, and is not home when he comes to visit. Which he is actually relieved about, because he doesn't want to face her. What can he say? He doesn't understand why she's mad or why he feels sick instead of happy. He goes home and he's not smiling, not warm and loved anymore. When his parents fight, he's connected enough to the real world to cry. That hasn't happened in years, since he started getting attention.

The next day brings a lemon at recess on his left, and a positively apathetic Tak on his right.

Tak doesn't want him to eat this. But he does, he wants the cheering and whistling. Keef wants to be happy. That's all he's capable of. He's not like a real person, with feelings and hopes and dreams. All he has is today, this moment, and some joy. He bites into it, lets the crowd scream and cheer. He lets their static wash over him and he can't feel the joy he used to. He can't whoop with joy even as he shovels lemon after lemon down. It's not enough, it's not working. Tak broke it! She broke his release somehow!

Two minutes later, recess is over and for the first time since the first grade, he's puking. And for all his hopes, his girlfriend is not sympathetic.

"You greedy, filthy attention _whore_," she says without a trace of emotion, "What the hell is wrong with you? Do you get off on this kind of thing? On being on display like an animal? Idiot! You'll probably end up in porno at this rate!"

"I'm sorry, Tak," he whimpers, to her furious flashing eyes, "I really am."

"Sorry doesn't cut it. Tomorrow, you either don't act like a fucktard or I'm never speaking to you again," and she left him to his vomit.

And for once in his life, Keef realized something.

He didn't need this. Chugging, eating, stuffing himself. What was the point? It didn't work anymore. It was failing him. For all his innocent intentions, he'd failed. Ouch. It was almost enough to make him cry. Why had he even started, again? It was so long ago, back when his sister died. He'd been tiny and happy and then she was gone. No one had loved him after that. No one knew he existed, so he set out to MAKE them know. He had, but... What was the point?

Tak loved him. He didn't need this anymore. He had _her_, and she needed no chugging to stay by his side. A bright smile lit up his face. The world was back to normal. He could see things were okay, and his Keefy perkiness returned full swing.

"Hey, Tak, wait! I wanna walk you home!"

Keef never had a lemon again.


	7. Hot Sauce

AN: More swearing from Tak. I dunno why, it seems to fit her - you KNOW that if Invader Zim didn't air on Nick, Tak would cuss. Think about it. (I'm so close to finishing the ten themes in two days. I really hope I do so I can look back on my work fondly when my friends whine there's no KeefTak in the world. XD)

I do not own anything, this disclaimer goes for all chapters, if you don't like it then bite me, I'm too tired to care.

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It was hard to believe, but Tak had actually gotten attached to Keef.

All her life, she'd wanted to be treated like the Tallest. She wanted to have power, to be waited on and looked up to. All those years as a lowly worker on planet Dirt had tarnished her, left her mind haunted by the memories of being nothing. When she returned to Earth, she took a powerful man as her father, and now she was finally treated with dignity. Not power, not adoration, but she was respected as a person. The closest she had to what she really wanted was Keef.

He became enchanted with her after she took pity and fed the poor, ugly boy who turned up on her doorstep. He became her self proclaimed best friend when she let him stay the night on her couch. He became her boyfriend when she indulged in that 'hand holding' thing humans found so wonderful. In mere moments, with no effort or mind control, Keef became her willing servant. If Tak wanted him to do something, he did it without question. All without asking for pay, without asking for anything other than to be close to her as often as possible. It was all she'd ever wanted: a slave.

Yet as time passed, she began to grow fond of him. His incessant, psychotic happiness scared off the more annoying humans. His red hair made him easy to track. His constant chattering meant she did have to talk, yet looked as if she had a friend. Keef was an absolute moron. That was why he was so perfect for this role. Zim had been a fool to cast him aside, when he was so utterly useful. Every day, he became a more integrated part of her cover story, and there was a certain kind of gratefulness she felt towards him that threatened to become outright friendship.

She wasn't sure when she crossed the line between master and friend, but one day she realized something: she didn't need him, but she wanted him. He was not needed to keep the mission afloat. He was an interesting accessory, a filler of gaps in her normality. Yet if she'd wanted, he could have been gone in a heartbeat. There was no need to have him over constantly, every Friday for ice cream and every Monday for TV. She just plain wanted to have him around. She wanted the company, wanted the chatter and stupidity. Her complaints and name calling slowed as time went on and she adjusted to the waves of dumbness. Tak even found herself calling him for no reason, just because she was bored and it was Thursday. She was, horror of horrors, his friend.

He really complimented her, in a way. She was Yin, soft and dark and complex. He was Yang, bright and rough and simple. She was always coming up with something to do, some new aspect of Earth culture to study. Her plan was to submit to the Tallest lists of Earthling entertainment venues, to be promptly exported and exploited for the Irken Empire. She could have left Keef behind. Yet his idiot's perception of things was just what she needed. His happy go lucky attitude was the perfect accompaniment for her own solemn state of mind. He spoke a lot and the words held no meaning. She was to the point in her comments. For all her bragging of Irken superiority, she needed help in socialization, as Irkens had little. He was her foil. Two halves of the same whole, one loving the other and the other hating love. How the hell they ever ended up like this, she didn't know. It never struck her as odd, though, to find that someone. How many Invaders had mentioned someone else completing them, if only for a day? It made sense she'd find that person eventually.

Keef always knew what she wanted. When it was ice cream night, he brought her strawberries. When it was late at night, he brought her pillows. In the morning, a platter of waffles would await her. At lunch, he got her a place to sit. He knew her favorite colors (blue, purple, red), her favorite places (the library, the theatre, the park) and her favorite words (bloody, skuwish'd, fool). He knew she had insomnia and often 'slept' restlessly, turning over for hours on end. He knew she could make her eyes sparkle and he'd feel so happy it didn't matter how much she made him forget about his life. He knew she was a lady, and treated her like one. It was the kind of mind reading, sentence finishing bond Tak never knew she could have. She wasn't sure whether to be scared or thrilled, honestly.

"Keef-monkey," she called into the kitchen, "Bring me the-"

"Hot sauce?" he asked, handing it to her. "I knew you were out, so I got some."

God damm, it was even the right brand and flavor.

"You know, you're really fucked up sometimes," the purple haired girl told him, and then she smiled. "I'm rather fond of it."


	8. Coffee

AN: It's freakishly short, but I loved it too much to leave it unseen by the public.

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"Can I finish your coffee, Tak?"

"No."

Keef's eyes grew to maximum poutage. "Please, can I have some?"

"No."

"You just made a fresh pot-"

"Cease your noise, Keef-child. I'm attempting to read the paper," and she, indeed, went back to her reading.

Keef sighed and, after a long moment, his hand inched towards her seemingly unguarded cup.

_Smack!_

"Ow! Tak, why'd you do that?"

"No means no, love-monkey. Deal with it."

"But I... wait, LOVE monkey?" Keef's green eyes grew wide as saucers and that dangerously adorable grin snaked across his face before Tak could take back what she said. "Oh, Tak, I love you TOO!" And he made a move to hug her.

The Irken silenced him with a quicker than lightning motion; suddenly Keef was on the ground with Tak's 32 oz. coffee cup clutched in his hands.

"Be silent and drink your coffee," she hissed, attempting to hide her blush behind the paper. "Let us never speak of this again."

"Ok, honey," Keef chirped, and scurried out of the room before she could steal back her coffee.


	9. Protein

AN: Again, another piece whose ending I adore. This was tricky to write, but I think it came out okay.

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Keef knew he wasn't tough.

He knew he wasn't really fast, or really smart, but those didn't bother him all that much. He was more bothered by Tak protecting him, in fights verbal and physical, while he simply stood back and watched. He was bothered by her moving to shelter him with her arms when they watched gore films. He was bothered by the way she automatically took his bag on the way to school, as if he couldn't possibly keep pace with her otherwise. She didn't think twice about any of it. She never stopped to consider he might not be a total push over. In her mind, it was a cemented fact and thus he should be carefully guarded.

He hated being so weak. And mind you, Tak was _right_ to call him weak. Going up the stairs at school or walking more than three blocks was a real struggle. His legs would burn if he had to run more than a half mile. Tak did not just outwit him, she outran him and more likely than not wouldn't even be breathing hard by the end of it. He utterly despised this, more than anything else in his life. He hated being so easily overpowered and out of breath. He was very painfully aware that most of his class outdid him on every physical front. He was utterly pathetic, the last to finish every race and picked last for every game.

Tak was not without suitors. Boys saw her and between the make up, stylish hair and English accent, she could've had a fanclub if the school allowed it. She never so much as looked their way, but that was only because Keef was lucky. If they'd really wanted to impress her, they'd probably lure her away from him. Tak was a high class lady. She drank champagne and read Shakespeare. The fact that she stayed with Keef amidst a sea of boys was nothing short of an utter, absolute miracle.

One day, frustrated with himself, he took off his shirt and peered into the mirror. He was skinny, just skin and bones. He also lacked all concept of muscle. There was no definition to him. The closest thing to definition he had was the bump his belly made in his profile. Sighing, Keef put his shirt on and paced. Tak always said 'solve problems, don't bemoan them'. Who could help him solve this? Most of the sporty kids were out. They were mean. The teachers were worse, and out of shape. So, who... Oh, wait! Torque!

The other boy was a bit baffled as to why Keef popped up out of nowhere, but he helped. Protein shakes, push ups, and jogging were what he did, mostly. Before he could ask what Keef was doing in his bedroom, the redhead was halfway home making various squeeing noises.

Thus began the training. The running, the incoherent jumping, the over dramatic push ups done to Eye of the Tiger at two in the morning. His neighbors were ready to file complaints against his random running across the street at all hours. Keef was on fire! He was going to be Tak's equal for once, and fight bullies alongside her rather than in her shadow. He was Super Special Awesome! He was-

He was still a wimp.

As he lay on his back, staring at the pretty stars dancing before his eyes, he wondered what he'd done wrong. The blood rushing to his new shiner of a black eye made him fairly certain he'd messed up, but he didn't get it until Tak stood over him, a cross between amusement and annoyance written upon her features.

"You forgot the protein, you git," she said, and hauled him to his feet. "Come on, let's go get you a cheeseburger. That should help your incessant stupidity."

"Then, will I be tough?" he asked, eyes sparkling with pure and honest hope.

"No."


	10. Juice

AN: One with a cute ending, as opposed to all the morbid ones. Just for a change of pace, I guess. I wanted this to end on a sentimental note. Thanks for all the reviews, hope to get more, see y'all later when I work on my next alternative pairings piece. (I'm going to bed now. Night!)

Own nothing, blah blah, your resistance will be noted!

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Tak was very keenly aware of things Earthlings did.

Since assimilating herself into Earth teens culture, she had learned that all it took to be was normal was to pretend to like crappy musicals and gush over anime. Go to dances, pretend to give a damm about the music people listened to, and then of course make sure she never mentioned the future. Earth teens lived entirely for the moment, in their own world where music and clothes counted for more than personality. The future was invisible to them; not once did they think that school might end and they would go out into a world bigger than their little cliques. Blending was easy. Pick a subculture, some music, and act stupid.

Her normality was only occasionally called into question, but when it was, she was prepared. When asked who she was going to the dance with, she answered Keef. When asked if she liked him, she said yes. Whenever it was needed, she used Keef as her ticket to a life free of question. He was her accompaniment, the proof she was not alone. Loneliness was not permittable to humans, and thus she had latched onto him. He was her shield, essentially.

As she learned things, they did more things together. Dances. Movies. Dinner. All those things couples did and were supposed to do. It was easy for her to blend in when he was with her. She was aware that she may have been over doing it sometimes. Then she would step back, and they would hang out like normal friends. Everything was nice and normal, without a hitch until she had one of her moments.

Training herself to eat human food had been a long process. Still unable to handle some meats and pure water, it took her months of throwing up, testing her limits and reacting badly to food before she could even eat cafeteria food normally. Though she prided herself on being able to go out to a human food place and eat - something Zim had never managed - the fact was that it never felt natural to her. It still made her freeze up to eat or drink something in public. She knew the risks of being exposed... and the risks of germs. Humans were infamous for food poisoning (something Irkens had never had with their own food). Their kitchens were a mockery of cleanliness by intergalactic standards. Their ingredients were questionable at best (meat, milk? Ew!) and horrific at worst (shark meat, insects?! What the fuck?). Naturally, the school's cafeteria was the worst of both worlds.

"Hey!" Keef squealed as a kid bumped into him, "You spilled my juice!"

"Just share with your girlfriend, wussy," the other child snapped back, vanishing into the lunch crowd.

Keef turned to stare at her, curiously. "Can I, um, maybe..."

His eyes were big and round. His lips were tiny and pouting. His little hands wrung nervously. Tak's inner self twinged, but by Irk, he was cute. Common sense, germophobia and dignity be dammed.

"Yes, we can share juice."

And though the Irken Invader would never admit it, the look on Keef's face made it all worth it.


End file.
